Transmigrating: Starting in the Cyberpunk World

At Piltover Academy, the afternoon sun spilled into Professor Heimerdinger's office, casting a warm glow over a scene of quiet productivity. Kael was crouched low, diligently grading final exam papers; the Professor's custom-built furniture was far too small for him to sit comfortably.

Beside him, a Poro was curled in a plush nest. The creature had grown significantly over the semester, its silk-like fur a testament to Kael's specialized grooming. Even Heimerdinger had been moved to ask about the "conditioner" Kael used, eventually agreeing to endorse Kael's latest line of luxury toiletries in exchange for a lifetime supply.

The endorsement was a masterstroke. Now, every aristocrat in Piltover was clamoring for Kael's products. However, expanding production in Zaun was proving difficult. Vander had reported that other factory owners were forming an alliance against Kael. His "fair treatment" of workers—providing room, board, and a full gold coin monthly salary—had disrupted the local labor market. These owners didn't just want profit; they wanted the power to look down on their employees.

rumors were already beginning to ferment against Vander as well, as his push for the Zaunite Human Rights Act threatened the interests of the established elite.

The Poro waddled over, its belly nearly touching the floor, and licked Kael's hand. He fed it a biscuit scavenged from Heimerdinger's drawer.

"Aren't those the biscuits you gave me?" Heimerdinger asked, entering the room and twitching his fluffy beard with mock jealousy.

"I'll bring you walnut ones tomorrow, Professor," Kael promised.

Heimerdinger sighed as he looked over the graded papers. "Are you sure you won't apply for early graduation and stay as my official mentor-assistant? You're more qualified than most of the faculty."

"And spend my life grading these?" Kael marked a failing 'C' on a paper belonging to a noble student who couldn't grasp basic calculus. "I'd lose ten years of my life trying to teach people who only got in because of their last names."

Heimerdinger chuckled, picking up his Poro. "Young people have no patience for the joy of nurturing. But go on, I know you have a banquet tonight."

Kael arrived at the Kiramman estate to find Caitlyn waiting in her room. She was wearing a dress of Demacian silk—simple, elegant, and breathtakingly white.

"How is it?" she asked, spinning gently.

"Not very good," Kael replied, shaking his head.

Caitlyn's eyes narrowed as she stepped forward on her high heels. "You'd better have a reason for that."

"It's too beautiful," Kael sighed dramatically. "You'll steal the spotlight from the host. It's hardly fair to the other guests."

Caitlyn's stern mask crumbled into a delighted smile. "It's not that exaggerated."

A maid entered, carrying Kael's formal wear. The Levick family had recently been granted nobility, using the Rubik's Cube as their crest. While Shopkeeper Colin had declined the invitation—preferring to keep Orianna away from noble circles for now—he was happy to let Kael represent the family.

Kael's cosmetics business was the talk of the town. By binding the nobles to his distribution networks, he was ensuring his future influence. But tonight was also about Shimmer. Councilor Mel and Madame Kiramman were preparing to discuss trade with Noxus. Piltover needed steel and grain; Noxus wanted the "vitality" and "muscle" potions Kael had derived from Shimmer.

As Kael put on his suit, he noticed the style perfectly complemented Caitlyn's gown. Madame Kiramman's matchmaking intentions were as subtle as a sledgehammer. At ten years old, Kael was already reaching Caitlyn's height, and standing together, they looked exactly like the "power couple" the Councilor envisioned.

"This set matches yours perfectly," Kael noted, adjusting his sleeves.

"They were made by the same tailor," Caitlyn muttered, her gaze flickering as she reached out to straighten his tie. She had always hated these banquets, but tonight, she found herself looking forward to it.

"What extravagant noble ways," Kael teased as they prepared to leave.

"You're right," Caitlyn sighed. "Imagine if this money were used to improve the lives of people in the undercity."

"We're working on that," Kael reminded her, offering his arm.

Caitlyn, wearing long lace gloves, rested her hand on his with a rare, bashful grace. Madame Kiramman's urging voice echoed from the stairs—the carriage was waiting.